At the Back of the North Wind | Page 4

her sweet upper lip made her look as if she were going to
cry. What was the most strange was that away from her head streamed
out her black hair in every direction, so that the darkness in the hay-loft
looked as if it were made of her, hair but as Diamond gazed at her in
speechless amazement, mingled with confidence--for the boy was
entranced with her mighty beauty--her hair began to gather itself out of
the darkness, and fell down all about her again, till her face looked out
of the midst of it like a moon out of a cloud. From her eyes came all the
light by which Diamond saw her face and her, hair; and that was all he
did see of her yet. The wind was over and gone.
"Will you go with me now, you little Diamond? I am sorry I was forced
to be so rough with you," said the lady.
"I will; yes, I will," answered Diamond, holding out both his arms.
"But," he added, dropping them, "how shall I get my clothes? They are
in mother's room, and the door is locked."

"Oh, never mind your clothes. You will not be cold. I shall take care of
that. Nobody is cold with the north wind."
"I thought everybody was," said Diamond.
"That is a great mistake. Most people make it, however. They are cold
because they are not with the north wind, but without it."
If Diamond had been a little older, and had supposed himself a good
deal wiser, he would have thought the lady was joking. But he was not
older, and did not fancy himself wiser, and therefore understood her
well enough. Again he stretched out his arms. The lady's face drew
back a little.
"Follow me, Diamond," she said.
"Yes," said Diamond, only a little ruefully.
"You're not afraid?" said the North Wind.
"No, ma'am; but mother never would let me go without shoes: she
never said anything about clothes, so I dare say she wouldn't mind
that."
"I know your mother very well," said the lady. "She is a good woman. I
have visited her often. I was with her when you were born. I saw her
laugh and cry both at once. I love your mother, Diamond."
"How was it you did not know my name, then, ma'am? Please am I to
say ma'am to you, ma'am?"
"One question at a time, dear boy. I knew your name quite well, but I
wanted to hear what you would say for it. Don't you remember that day
when the man was finding fault with your name--how I blew the
window in?"
"Yes, yes," answered Diamond, eagerly. "Our window opens like a
door, right over the coach-house door. And the wind--you,
ma'am--came in, and blew the Bible out of the man's hands, and the

leaves went all flutter, flutter on the floor, and my mother picked it up
and gave it back to him open, and there----"
"Was your name in the Bible--the sixth stone in the high priest's
breastplate."
"Oh!--a stone, was it?" said Diamond. "I thought it had been a horse-- I
did."
"Never mind. A horse is better than a stone any day. Well, you see, I
know all about you and your mother."
"Yes. I will go with you."
"Now for the next question: you're not to call me ma'am. You must call
me just my own name--respectfully, you know--just North Wind."
"Well, please, North Wind, you are so beautiful, I am quite ready to go
with you."
"You must not be ready to go with everything beautiful all at once,
Diamond."
"But what's beautiful can't be bad. You're not bad, North Wind?"
"No; I'm not bad. But sometimes beautiful things grow bad by doing
bad, and it takes some time for their badness to spoil their beauty. So
little boys may be mistaken if they go after things because they are
beautiful."
"Well, I will go with you because you are beautiful and good, too."
"Ah, but there's another thing, Diamond:--What if I should look ugly
without being bad--look ugly myself because I am making ugly things
beautiful?--What then?"
"I don't quite understand you, North Wind. You tell me what then."
"Well, I will tell you. If you see me with my face all black, don't be

frightened. If you see me flapping wings like a bat's, as big as the
whole sky, don't be frightened. If you hear me raging ten times worse
than Mrs. Bill, the blacksmith's wife--even if you see me looking in at
people's windows like Mrs. Eve Dropper, the gardener's wife-- you
must believe that I am doing my work. Nay, Diamond, if I change into
a serpent or a tiger, you must not let go your hold of me,